


Rhapsody in Blue

by Lexie



Category: Hellboy (movie-verse)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-21
Updated: 2010-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:11:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexie/pseuds/Lexie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In September 1985, 11-year-old Liz Sherman ignited after being struck by a rock.</p><p>Two weeks later, the Michigan Department of Human Services still doesn't know what to do with her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rhapsody in Blue

**Detroit, Michigan - October 1985**

"Don't you want to play?" the woman wheedled, but the little girl sat silently in the gray room full of child-sized furniture and brightly colored toys. "We could draw; would you draw me a picture?"

The girl didn't move, her chin tucked low – but not quite to her chest – with her black hair tumbling across her shoulders, covering her face on both sides. Her expression was thoroughly, frighteningly blank, ruthlessly so, her eyes just as bereft of emotion and fixed on the wall, and the psychiatrist's own face momentarily broadcasted her unease.

"Well," she says, "my name is Dr. Keller and we're going to be _good_ friends, Elizabeth." She held out a hand, but her subject didn't so much as blink, much less look at her or shake her hand. She slowly lowered her hand. "Excuse me for just a moment; I'll be right back."

 

As she left, Liz didn't move; she kept sitting with her hands folded tightly in her lap. The new doctor didn't shut the door to the viewing room; she left it open a crack, and Liz listened to the conversation going on behind the mirror that she knew was really a window.

"Jesus," said the new doctor's voice.

"I did try to warn you," said a man.

"Has anyone gotten through to her at all?"

"No, ma'am. She's been like that ever since she came in. Didn't even blink when she was told that her mother was dead and her father wasn't coming for her."

Liz watched the partially open door, dead-eyed and silent, and then she looked down at the boxes of crayons and large sheets of paper carpeting the table in front of her. She sat still for a long, long moment, and then she reached over and carefully selected a blue crayon.

* * *

Dr. Keller stopped dead in her cracks for a second as she stepped back into the room, and then she kept walking and sat down on her feet across from Liz. She was better than the old doctors; at least she didn't seem afraid (_she doesn't know_, Liz thought) and she came down to her level while talking to her. "May I see?" she asked, and it was only because she asked permission – and was not already reaching for the picture – that Liz very carefully considered it, dispassionate and grave, then bobbed her head once.

Dr. Keller pulled the sheet of paper across the table and looked at the clumsy stick figure engulfed in furious blue scribbles. Her eyebrows furrowed. "Is she flying?" she asked, smiling, and Liz felt too-hot tears prick at the back of her eyelids.


End file.
